Double Black, in an even darker world

Chapter 4 ; although damaged

(please do tell me if you notice any typos/grammar mistakes, i haven't double-checked this chapter)

WARNINGS: mentions of self-harm and heartbreak oopS

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Chuuya lay lazily in Dazai's arms. It had been an exhausting day, although another mission complete. They just laid there in the dark, limbs entangled and fingers gripping at each other's clothes. The auburn haired man normally lived for these moments, just the two of them, enjoying each other's company. Yet, tonight felt slightly different. Dazai was quiet, a little too quiet.

Chuuya wondered where the brunette was with his thoughts. 

He wondered if it perhaps was one of those nights, where Dazai's mind was just clouded by self-loathing, booze, cigarettes, suicide and harming himself in any kind of way. 

The small framed male had known Dazai for quite some years now and patched up a lot of wounds. Thus including wounds that weren't inflicted by an enemy attacker, but by Dazai himself. No one but Chuuya really knew Dazai did those things. They knew he was obsessed with killing himself, but they didn't know how the brunette actually hurt himself. Dazai created a pretty good façade, though, with a sharp tongue and his stupid sly smile that convinced every one of his self-confidence. 

But unlike the rest of the mafia, the redhead knew Dazai though. He had traced his fingers over every single one of Dazai's scars. He knew every scar, whether it was from a knife or a cigarette, whether it came from an attacker, or was self-inflicted. He felt as if he knew the marks covering the brunette's body better, than Dazai himself.

Chuuya had found Dazai too many times in a bathtub filled with his own crimson red blood, wrists cut open, empty look in his brown eyes. Now, when something like that happened – Chuuya just treated the wounds and send him to bed. Dazai always was too intoxicated or weak to give much of a protest, anyways. 

"Are you okay?" 

Even though he whispered, his voice still seemed too loud. He knew that he was treading on thin ice. He knew that the brunette wouldn't answer, feign sleep, or just say something infuriatingly sarcastic. Dazai never talked about his feelings and although they shared a lot of secrets, feelings were still a big no-no for the brunette. So, when no answer came, Chuuya moved out of Dazai's grip to look at the other male. 

Dazai groaned at the loss of Chuuya's warmth, although his eyes still closed.

"Dazai." 

He spoke softly, but stern, before climbing on top of his partner, trapping him with his weight.

He wasn't going to force Dazai into talking, but of course, Chuuya himself could talk... 

"Not exactly in the mood, Chuuya." 

Dazai murmured, trying to push the redhead away. 

"Look, I'm trying to say something of importance here, so if you could just shut your goddamn mouth for a fucking minute–" 

Chuuya huffed, his face slightly getting red. He was glad that the room was dark, hiding his flushed face. 

"Fine fine, I'm all ears, partner." 

Dazai mumbled, now with both eyes open and looking curiously at Chuuya.

Chuuya just smiled a bit sheepishly, and started to rid Dazai's arms of the tightly wrapped bandages. He let his fingers linger over the skin, before he carefully guided the now bear wrist of Dazai's left arm to his mouth and placed a feather-light kiss on it.